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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26050186">The Knight and the Mermaid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld'>aminiatureworld</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Fairy Tales, May have to update in the second half, Not violent in the first half, still new to this so sorry that it looks like blocks and blocks of text trying to fix this, this is basically a KyoSaya rehash of the show ngl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:56:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26050186</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Once there was a knight who dreamed of glory and a mermaid who dreamed of love.<br/>A retelling of Madoka Magica from Kyoko and Sayaka's perspectives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miki Sayaka/Sakura Kyouko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Knight and the Mermaid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a knight in shining armor on a quest, their heart full of courage, head full of wonder. When they sped up the drawbridge to free the girl from the dragon’s lair they were too late. A crown of fire sat upon their head as they fell.</p><p>The one object that Kyoko had truly been sad to lose was her mother’s book of fairytales. In the moment it hadn’t matter of course, being suddenly orphaned one’s thoughts aren’t usually ah I wonder where that book went and by the time Kyoko had left that life behind her and all her old things had been packed off to God knows where it didn’t really seem to matter that much, not when faced with things like witches and hunger and the splintering she felt was going on inside her. And when she really stopped and thought about it, well, what was there to do? Sometimes she could still close her eyes and see it, fancy in its embossed faux leather cover, marbled paper pressed inside, watercolors filling up the borders of pages, making it seem as if one might have truly left their world. Stories which, though sometimes sad and gruesome, seemed to beckon in their atmosphere, as if they were sirens themselves, sent to drown the reader in fantasy. Her line of thought on the book always stopped there and never went farther, as if the past had drawn some invisible line between her and the pages she used to pour over. It didn’t matter. Fairytales were for children.</p><p>-</p><p>There was a mermaid, who swam in the oceans depths. It was their home, they thought of nothing more. Still one day they fell in love with a human. Their heart full of hope they dragged themselves onto shore, where hot needles stung their borrowed feet. Their lungs filled with sea foam when they dissipated.</p><p>Sayaka wasn’t sure what her first emotion was as a magical girl. How could she put in words the result of something so, well, magical. It was something akin to pride though, and she knew it. She’d done it, she’d saved Kyosuke, she could protect Madoka. What more was there to want? The world was open and wonderful and new, and any pain she might suffer from this, any of the hardship she might face, they seemed so small in the face of what she’d done. And in knowing that, in knowing all that she’d opened up, in knowing that she could now do something, not only for those she loved, but for all those souls who might need protecting, she felt she could never carry any regrets.</p><p>-</p><p>Their wings dripped hot on their shoulders as they fell. Burning, burning, burning. Their newfound freedom was no more, and as they plunged into the depths of the oceans, a blazing inferno which others would speak of in beauty and tragedy, they reflected on how happiness could be lost so soon.</p><p>Kyoko was sad Mami had died, of course she was, how could she not be? They were never partners so to speak, though in the beginning Kyoko had certainly gobbled up Mami’s advice greedily, for then she’d been alone and any friendly face, no matter how naïve and ignorant themselves, was one that she’d cling to like a drowned man might cling to a rock. Not that Mami was idiotic per se, but Kyoko never saw the appeal in wishing for a better world, in coating the poison and evil of existence in a thick layer of candy. Those things belonged in stories and fables, belonged to people who never had to see the evil of the world, never experience hardship. Still, it was hard not to be a bit sad about it, for Mami had been formidable and powerful. It’d be a rough role to fulfill, if Kyoko had had any intention of doing so. Instead she sat, looking out onto Mitakihara, letting the chill wind blast through her jacket, if only to remind her of her place as her mind drifted, and decided then and there that she’d never fall as Mami had, because never would she give herself up to such foolish principles as love and compassion that simply didn’t exist in the world.</p><p>Sayaka had never understood the concept of seeing red until she’d seen the death of her friend, until she’d understood how truly horrible the web she’d fallen into was. Red, there was red everywhere, even when they’d dragged themselves out of the labyrinth, even when that crazy chick told them to look upon their fate and Madoka cried so hard Sayaka had to half drag her home, claiming to Madoka’s mother that there’d been a dead cat in the street, something that she didn’t seem to believe, but wordlessly accepted, even then Sayaka could stop seeing the reddish tinge in the corners of her vision. Mami had deserved more, Mami had deserved better, of course she had! Sayaka had long ago come to the conclusion that most people were perfectly kind on a sort of subconscious level, or at least apathetic enough to avoid cruelty to others, but Mami was a different sort of kindness, the kind that spilled over and enveloped all the people she met, the kind that never seemed to give out. And now where was she… felled by that terrible witch. That witch. Witches. Those were what Sayaka had to fight now. She had to, it was part of the contract, the contract Sayaka was still intent on signing. A tremor went through her. How could she fight such a thing, how? It seemed too horrible a thought to even continue. And yet she had to, she had to now. For Mami she would plow through this horrible situation, to remember her, to avenge her memory. And for Madoka… how could Sayaka call herself any good if she abandoned Madoka now, abandoned the world. There world was absolutely crawling with witches, with pure evil. How could Sayaka live with herself if she didn’t try to stamp that out. She looked down at her phone, where Dvorak Symphony No 9 Movement 2 had just ended. Her finger hovered around the skip button before hitting replay. The calm, melancholic melody of the English Horn washed over her. It was a night for remembering, and Sayaka would never forget. More than ever now her goal seemed important, almost sacred. Never would she let another person suffer like Mami. Never.</p><p>-</p><p>The warriors were locked in eternal battle, glorious it was decried. There they fought, weapons flashing, having long forgotten the origin. Yet every once in a while, when they tired, a voice would cry out compelling them to victory, for to be defeated was to be proven wrong.</p><p>Kyoko had never felt the overwhelming urge to kill a magical girl before. In all her years of fighting most of the girls she’d met had been smart, smart enough to share her views, or smart enough to get out of the way. But not this girl, this blue haired idiot. Kyoko had long ago thought that she was incapable of true rage again, emotions had dulled themselves, hidden behind a wall of, well, she didn’t want to think about it, in case that shook the foundations. But now anger and resentment flowed inside her as she watched the girl struggle up once more, eyes fixating on Kyoko firmly despite the blow she’d just taken having been enough to normally send even the toughest of magical girls running, most likely with a concussion. It only fueled her irritation even more. How dare this impertinent girl keep fighting, didn’t she know the battle was lost? It had been lost ages ago, whenever it was this girl had made her contract, and was an idiotic contract it had been evidently. Anyone who could still believe in blather about justice and goodness couldn’t be smart. Oh well, it was the end of the line, and all knew it. Kyoko bend down, spear ready, and prepared to strike the death blow.</p><p>Sayaka wondered if it was possible to loathe someone so entirely, the way she now loathed the person in front of her. She supposed this was what it’d be like to look into the eyes of a murderer, for this magical girl was no less than that, how many people had already died for her selfish needs, her wants that put a small black gem in front of humans, real breathing living humans. She clenched her teeth, pain was rising up inside her, not as strong as it ought to be, Kyubey had said her wish had taken care of that, and stood herself up with her sword. There’d be no losing here, not for is Mami’s sake, not for the sake of every human being in Mitakihara who might now fall prey to this girl if Sayaka should lose. Not for Kyosuke, who was now finally going to be able to play again. Not for anyone. She shifted herself into a fighting formation. She wouldn’t lose, no she couldn’t, she could never let herself lose to this amalgamation of human selfishness and cowardice that stood above her, this worst part of humanity. She’d not let her win, because this magical girl in front of her was wrong, utterly, utterly wrong, and to not disprove her would be dishonorable. So she stood at the ready, determined the victory would be hers.</p><p>The day had evidently gone from bad to worse. Kyoko knew that she hadn’t missed, no, she never missed, and the anger still coursing through her system was only insurance of that. No it was this damned girl in purple, the girl who somehow knew her name. Alarm bells rang everywhere, for this was certainly nothing to take lightly. Someone already wanted this territory, and was evidently so determined to do so they’d mapped out all their enemies. Besides her the blue haired girl, Sayaka was what her friend called her, was all in a heap, another blow surely would’ve done the trick. Still, there was no way the battle would be won today, not with this third player, evidently not a newbie or scrub in any sense of the word, now appeared. There was nothing to do really, except leave, the battle would have to be won another day, if Kyoko could only pin this Sayaka some other time. With a huff she turned to leave, mind still raging and writhing, knowing at least this way true, that she’d win, she would most certainly win.</p><p>Damn them all. Damn that red haired girl, damn Homura Akemi, damn them all. Sayaka stood outside Kyosuke’s home, listening to the soft strains of his playing. He was always playing, even when his hand wouldn’t let him, a melody still carried inside his heart and mind, it was what Sayaka liked most about him perhaps, the constant melody that kept up, the violinist that refused to utterly desert himself from his craft. And now he was brought back, back to life, truly. And she’d done it. She’d saved him, had saved others, and tonight she could’ve saved so many more. If not for that damn Homura. Sayaka wouldn’t have lost, she was sure of it for she was in the right and that red head was certainly in the wrong, Sayaka would never have lost to such a person, new as she was she was sure she couldn’t. Any injuries, any wounds, she’d suck it up if only to show that girl she was wrong, she was wrong about everything. If it took death to teach her such a thing, so be it. That was the way of the world. She glanced up at the window where the music was coming from. It was late. There’d be another time. And next time, next time she was sure to be the victor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dvorak Symphony No 9 Mvt 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHyN3izk38c</p></blockquote></div></div>
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